Thick as Thieves
by Zan Artemis
Summary: Eventual 1x2 shonen ai : Still... the world stood still... I couldn't move, and all I could feel was this aching in my heart, saying I loved him still...
1. I

**_Author's Note  
_**Hi, everyone! I'm really sorry I haven't been updating, like, _anything, _but I've had major writer's block. I guess I'm still suffering it. This is an angsty chapter to an angsty story, so ignore that. Um, yeah. Please read and enjoy!

* * *

After six hours of work, the screen remained hopelessly blank. The chapter was due at seven sharp, and it was two in the morning. Not a word, let alone a thought or sentence, had made it into the program. In five short hours, his life would be over. Over the course of his five-book contract, he was allotted fifteen push-back dates for his works. He'd used all of them, and he was only halfway through the first book. Yes, his life would efficiently come to an end. 

His telephone rang. Rubbing his eyes tiredly with one hand, he reached over and picked up the cordless receiver. "Hello?"

"Duo? What are you doing up this late?"

He smiled faintly. "You just woke me up, Quatre. I have a deadline tomorrow, and you know how frightening Relena gets around deadline days."

"Liar," the voice on the other end of the phone breathed. "You're still awake. I can see the light in your window."

He stood and stalked to the offending casement. How could Quatre see him? He wasn't supposed to come home for another seventy hours, fifteen minutes and six seconds. Not that he was counting. "Where are you?" He peered through the inky darkness and tried to see through the windows across the street, but the curtains behind their obsidian glass refused to budge.

"Look down."

His eyes traveled down the face of the building until they met a street lamp, and from there continued to see the person standing in the oily yellow light beneath. Quatre smiled and waved at him, his blond hair shining in the foggy haze.

Duo grinned and clicked the telephone off. He leaned his hip against the glass and waved his fingers back, then tilted his head back, motioning Quatre to come up. Even through the mist of early-morning city streets, he watched Quatre laugh as he flipped his cell phone closed and began across the street.

A glance around the apartment put him to immediate shame. Launching himself into a last-ditch effort of a semblance of civility, he flung his clothing into the closet, swept the empty ramen cups into the trash bin and tossed the empty beer bottles back in the fridge. The rings on the desk and coffee table would have to wait—hopefully the blonde would be too preoccupied to notice. On his way to the door, Duo stopped by the mirror and finger-combed his unruly wavy chocolate locks into an orderly chaos and quickly braided the mass. Unfortunately all of his hair ties had been snapped at random objects around the apartment and were scattered to the winds, so he just left it alone. If it unraveled, oh well. _Four days he's been gone and this place is back to looking like a college bachelor pad,_ Duo lamented silently.

There came a light tap at the door. Duo straightened his clothes and took a deep breath to steady his heart, then pulled the door open. A silly grin spread across his face, even as he tried to act nonchalant. He leaned against the door frame and crossed his arms over his chest. After a bold, appraising glance up and down, he said sultrily, "Can I say you look sinfully delicious?"

Quatre's forest-green overcoat accented his eyes while the slim cut highlighted the slimness of his waist. The black slacks that encased this legs were tight and yet comfortable at the same time. His loafers gleamed dully with melted snow from outside. His cheeks and nose were pinkened from the chilly wind outside.

The green-eyed blonde smiled a bit tightly and tipped his head to the side. "Can I come in?"

Duo stepped back, pushed on the defensive. "By all means. You're home early—not that I'm complaining," he hastily added as he reached out to take Quatre's coat.

The blonde gently pushed Duo's hands away. "About that. Duo, we need to talk."

Suddenly the brunet felt cold. Ice water replaced the warm blood in his veins and his heart began to pound. This was not at all how he'd imagined Quatre's homecoming. "Um, okay. Let's sit in the living room. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." Quatre led them into the living room and elegantly sat down on the couch. Duo lowered himself onto the cushion beside Quatre. The blonde shifted a little uncomfortably, then as if unable to bear the immobility, stood and stalked to the adjoining kitchen. He glanced at Duo from across the breakfast bar. "Do you have any beer?"

"There might be some in there…" Now Duo was worried. Quatre never drank. He usually waited until Duo was good and sauced, then took advantage of the situation. That was more Quatre's style.

"All that's in the refrigerator is empty bottles. And a lot of them." Quatre straightened and closed the door with somewhat more force than necessary.

Duo winced. "Is everything okay? How was your conference?"

"The conference was fine. The most brilliant medical minds gathered in one place, it was absolutely enlightening." He smiled briefly. "Doctors from all over the country—there were even some representatives from other countries there. The speakers were truly inspiring."

The brunet relaxed ever so slightly and the cold inside him thawed somewhat. The worry, however, remained firmly in place. "That's good," he ventured timidly. "You've been waiting for this conference for months. I'm glad you weren't disappointed."

"Yeah…" Quatre glanced at the laptop computer still open on the desk. "Working? Isn't your deadline in the morning?"

"Don't I know it?" Duo grinned a little hesitantly. It wasn't like Quatre to change the subject. "Was your hotel not to your liking?"

"No, the hotel was fine."

He waited for Quatre to continue, but the blonde lapsed into another quiet spell. Duo cleared his throat. "I don't mean to sound ungrateful or anything—really, I'm glad you're home—but if everything went well, then why are you home three days early?"

Quatre looked startled for a moment, then recomposed himself. "I, um… There's no easy way to say this." He sighed and rubbed his eyes. "Duo, I'm sorry."

The cold came back and doubled, wrapping its icy fingers around Duo's heart and squeezing. "Quatre…? Baby, what happened?" Duo crossed the room and took the blonde's hands in his.

Quatre turned his head to the side and stared at the floor.

"Quatre? Talk to me." Gently Duo turned his chin so they faced one another. "Whatever happened, it's okay. We can face it together."

"That's it—we can't." Quatre pressed Duo's hands together softly, then let them go. Quietly he said, "At the convention… I met someone."

"And?" Duo bit his lip. He didn't want to know the "and," and yet his dumb mouth had asked. Damn him.

"And… he asked me to move in with him…" Quatre stepped back. His eyes were still glued to the floor. "And I said…yes."

Duo felt his heart drop and his stomach melt. "But… you just met him… How can you just leave like that?" His eyes welled up and his voice came out the barest whisper of sound.. "What about the last four years? What about me? You never wanted to move in with me, what makes him so special?"

"His name is Trowa," Quatre explained. "He was one of the speakers at the convention. After his seminar, he invited me over for coffee to discuss my theories… then one thing led to another, and…" he faltered at the end.

"What the hell are you saying!" Duo felt the hysteria clawing inside.

"I'm saying I'm leaving," Quatre mumbled to the floor.

"Dammit, _look _at me when you're talking!" Duo screamed. He felt a sort of perverse pleasure when he saw Quatre flinch.

The blonde winced and slowly brought his eyes up to meet the brown eyes of the brunet. "I'm sorry, Duo. These last years have been…wonderful, magical, whatever word you want to use… but I have to follow my heart…"

Tears spilled over Duo's cheeks and the hysteria finally tore him to shreds. "Fine!" he screeched. "_Fine_! Get out! Just get out!" Furiously he snatched up the couch cushion and flung it at the blonde. "Get out of my sight! Go! Leave!"

Quatre nearly tripped over his own feet as he staggered to the door, dodging increasingly massive objects. "I thought I should tell you rather than just disappearing from your life! I'm _sorry_, Duo!" He stood in the doorway, and Duo could see the tears falling down his cheeks as well. "I really loved you…"

An anguished sob tore itself from Duo's throat and he half-heartedly picked up another cushion. This one he held tight to his chest as if using it to protect himself. "Just go," he whispered brokenly. "_Please_."

Quatre quietly closed the door behind himself. Quietly closed the door on their life together.

Duo sank to the couch and sobbed into his cushion. His life had ended earlier than he'd thought.

After six hours and five minutes of work, the screen still remained faithfully blank.


	2. II

The apartment came unfurnished but with free utilities. It certainly was spacious—two rooms, one of which he planned on using as a living area-slash-den-slash-office and the other as a bedroom, separate kitchen and dining areas, toilet closet, bath and open shower area, and a loft—definitely worth more than the asking price. The only thing he found lacking in it was that there was no balcony, due in part to the lowness of the apartment. It was on the first floor, while only rooms from the fifth floor on up had balconies. Usually having an area open to fresh air and space helped his writing, but he supposed the fire escape would serve just as well. And there were no window seats, but then again played the low-floor-level card. Window seats were reserved for the higher-up apartments, while only the penthouse had the French doors he craved. But he was living on a budget, and he was fine with what he had. At least the apartment came with an electric stove.

"It'll do," he told the landlord, who then laid out a contract on the bar separating the living and dining areas.

The landlord nodded sagely and handed him a pen. "Sign here and here, and initial here, here, and here." As he made the appropriate marks, the landlord continued, "Rent is due at the end of every month, on the thirtieth or thirty-first, depending on the month. Rules are strictly enforced, though I don't think we'll have much difficulty with that, they're rather simple and common-sense. The ground floor, as you know, is a museum, but in the back there's a bakery, and you're more than welcome in there." He picked up the contract and tore off the pack sheet. "Here's your copy, and I believe that's it. It's doing business with you, Mister Maxwell."

Duo nodded and handed the man his pen back. "Would it be all right if I moved my furniture in tomorrow?"

"Of course, of course." The man bowed once, then turned to leave. When he reached the door, he turned back as if remembering something vitally important. "All of our residents receive a complimentary newspaper each morning, and trash pickup is on Mondays and Fridays. If you have any questions or concerns, my number is written on the contract."

Again Duo nodded and held the door open. "Thank you, Mr. Landlord. I'll call if I need you." He closed the door behind the man before he could turn around and begin babbling again.

Sighing deeply, Duo stalked out to the fire escape and leaned on the rail. The air was crisper on this side of town, but somewhat stale this close to the ground. He'd have to get used to it. A change in scenery was just what the doctor ordered to get his mind off Quatre. It seemed everything that happened before was from another life, as if this new home turned him into a new man, with new responsibilities and interests. The only things that hadn't changed, it seemed, were his editor, Relena Peacecraft, and his book contracts. He'd even purged his refrigerator of any scrap of edibles, purchasing only the necessities for the overnight he'd have nothing. Tomorrow, while the movers brought in his new furniture, he'd restock his new refrigerator and pantry with whole new foods. Maybe he'd even experiment with different cuisines, like Italian or American. He was a new man now—why shouldn't he?

The door buzzed: he had a visitor. Duo pushed himself from the railing and sauntered to the door. He didn't exactly feel up for company, but he figured it was probably the landlord back with more details about the apartment. What he did not expect was there to be a teenager—a teenage girl, at that—standing in his doorway, in her arms a cellophane-wrapped plate of what appeared to be cookies. Her blue-black hair was cropped short in what he recognized to be a French pixie cut, half-hidden beneath a pale red beret. Sparking blue eyes peered at him from behind her bangs. The girl was clothed in a radical tight-ish blue and black jacket and black slacks, with her feet tucked into black boots. A bright red cloth bag hung around her waist from a strap that traced its way across her chest and over her shoulder.

She grinned and tipped him a two finger salute with a wink. "Hiya, mister! My name is Schbeker Hilde. I live with my mum up on the third floor. The Old Man told us you were moving in today, so we baked you these!" She presented him with the platter of sugary goodness. "We've been here all my life—that's sixteen years—so we know the ropes pretty well. That's apartment three-ninety-seven—give us a call or drop by if you need anything, kay?" The girl leaned over at the waist and rocked back on her heels, peering up at him.

"Um, okay," he stammered and examined the cookies through the translucent plastic. Golden-brown with dark lumps. "I'm Maxwell Duo. It's nice to meet you, I guess…"

Hilde gasped and clapped her hands over her mouth, eyes wide. "You're Duo-sama? _The _Duo-sama? Mama and I have read _every _book of yours! We buy them the instant they come out! I'm the president of your fan club at school! See—!" She reached around and dug through the bag. After a moment, she produced a business card-sized photo of Duo and flipped it over. On the back was an "official" notice stating her status. "We made them at the club after we got the pictures in. See, they're signed and everything! Oh, wait'll I tell everyone at school!"

"Really, I'd rather you not," Duo said, exasperated. "See, I've just been through a bad breakup, and I'd rather have my alone time…" He took the picture delicately and scrutinized the signature. It wasn't his. Oh well. Better not to burst her bubble on his first night. "I'm flattered," he said instead, and he was. "Well, I'm pretty tired, so—"

"Oh! Excuse me!" Hilde snatched the picture back and stuffed it in her bag. "Um, enjoy the cookies, and don't worry about getting the plate back to us any time soon. We're right upstairs—we know where you live!" She laughed at her own joke while he managed a watery smile. The girl continued without even noticing. "You get some rest, Duo-sama, and I'll come by tomorrow to help you move in!"

"Really, that's not necessary," he protested, but she was already gone, bouncing her way up the hall and waving. He sighed and closed the door. Dimly he wondered what had made her that hyper—was it her nature, or an outside influence? Maybe it'd be best not to drink the water… Duo placed the cookies down on the bar beside his copy of the contract and plopped himself down in the middle of the floor.

He'd brought a sleeping bag for the night, but the landlord had provided him with a temporary futon. Despite the lateness of the hour and his genuine fatigue, his mind was racing with the possibilities of his new life. Duo decided to stretch his legs and walk to the corner convenience store for a late-night snack. After securing the door to the fire escape and the windows, he pocketed his key and locked the door behind himself.

* * *

The cashier at the convenience store, also a teenage girl, was reading a book, leaning disinterestedly against the counter and smacking a piece of chewing gum, when he came in. Duo recognized almost immediately the book as being his latest and ducked his head. First the psycho neighbor, next maybe the clerk? Vexed, he decided then and there to start using a pen name. 

Luckily, as she rang up his purchases—a bottle of water and a small carton of chocolate brownie ice cream—she didn't give him a second glance. Either she wasn't as die-hard as Hilde or she just didn't care, but Duo thanked his lucky stars and scurried back to his apartment as if his heels were on fire. He didn't stop long enough to even collect his receipt.

* * *

He ate the ice cream on the way home then managed to sneak back into his apartment without further incident. He pulled his laptop from his overnight bag and set it on the floor in front of him. His next deadline was looming, only a few weeks away, and he had nothing. This time his publishers, Gordon Enterprises, was threatening to pull his contract and cut him as an author if he didn't live up to the conditions. Unfortunately, this was his very last cut-off date extension before the term "deadline" turned quite literal. Relena already swore to have his head if he missed another deadline, though her tears and all. As usual, she broke into tears at the mere mention of the word "extension". 

The words stubbornly refused to come. It wasn't that he was out of ideas—not at all. At night he couldn't sleep for the plot bunnies running rampant through his mind, reproducing and replicating until there was scarcely any room to breathe. His creative juices just seemed to congeal somewhere between his brain and his fingers. It was at these times he'd pay a visit to Quatre. After an hour or two of Quatre's attention and under his expert ministrations, Duo never failed to come up with the next big hit.

There he went again, bringing the demon Q-word into thought. Duo pulled his knees up and dropped his forehead on his kneecaps, thrusting his hands through his hair. He was a new man, damn it, he needed to start acting like it. _Quatre's not here, _he told himself coldly. _You have to work with it, accept it, and live with it. _Still, he couldn't help but feel lonely in his empty apartment. The shadows danced around him, mocking his frustrations. Sounds echoed, harmonizing with his sorrow. From somewhere deep inside the apartment a cold wind began to blow.

Duo stood and brushed his hands up over his arms. He stalked into what would soon be his bedroom to discover the window wide open. With a sigh he closed it again, then yawned and stretched. Now he was tired. Back in the living room he unfolded the futon and slid into it, pulling the unzipped sleeping bag overtop him as an extra blanket. Within moments he was sound asleep.

* * *

Hilde was waiting on his doorstep when he opened the door at six the next morning. Today she was dressed in denim coveralls, a green, yellow, and blue striped turtleneck sweater, and sneakers. Her head as bare, her hair brushed and parted neatly to the left. A black barrette held her bangs from her eyes. She was sipping a coffee cup while another sat on the floor beside her. When he opened the door, she rolled to her feet and presented him with the second cup and a rolled up newspaper. 

"Here's your paper, and I bought you some coffee," she chirped. "Two creams and one sugar, right? I read that in a magazine eons ago. That's just something a fan club prez needs to know, doncha think?"

Duo winced and took the coffee. "Yeah, sure. Awful chipper for this early, aren't you? What're you drinking?" He'd barely managed to crawl out of bed and find a pair of jeans and a fairly-clean T shirt to wear, forget folding up his sleeping bag or futon. Coffee was vital—how could he have forgotten to pack his coffeemaker?

"Decaf mocha latte," she answered immediately, dancing in place. For some reason he trembled at the thought of her _off _decaf. "Where're you going?"

"To the store," he answered, sipping the drink. "What are you doing here so early?"

Hilde grinned. "I told you I'd help you move in, didn't I? Anyway, you go to the store, and I'll direct the movers when they get here. Kay? Leave it all to me!"

While he had doubts about leaving his furniture in the hands of a sixteen-year-old atomic-bomb-waiting-to-blow, she couldn't possibly do a worse job of arranging his stuff than he could. Why not? One less headache for the day. He let her in and continued on to the store.

* * *

**_ZN_**

Obviously this is different from the anime because in there Hilde and Duo were of similar ages, while here they're not—she's a teen and he's an adult. But that's okay. And if she's OOC, I'm sorry for that, too, but it's necessary. Anyway, I hope you liked it!


End file.
